


Playing the Game (With Tattered Cards)

by SLUG_CAT624



Series: Slug-Cat's Crossovers and Fandom Fusions [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Death by Knife Wound, Death by Suffication, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Hunger Games References, Mandalorian Culture, Mercy Killing, Psychological Torture, Sherlock s2e3 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 16:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19891165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLUG_CAT624/pseuds/SLUG_CAT624
Summary: “No talking, Mr. Holmes.  You remember our deal?  This or the rooftop?”'This' is so much worse.(Also featuring HGfan!Moriarty.)





	Playing the Game (With Tattered Cards)

She’s on her feet before she’s even fully aware, her instincts honed by a childhood in the old ways- where there was only the hunter and the hunted. The last thing she remembers is Maul stabbing her, the pulsing crimson blade filling her vision. She quickly assesses her surroundings- an old warehouse. Plenty of places to set up an ambush.

Manic laughter echoes through the warehouse, and Satine’s head whips back and forth- it’s being projected by a sound system, so she’s unable to pinpoint the source.

_ “I’ve waited so  _ long _ for this, you know. Collins almost got it right. But for me, oh, the stakes needed to be higher, so much higher...” _ A light turns on above her, illuminating the form of a man bound, hanging from the ceiling. He has dark curls and high cheekbones, and she takes in the bruising, hight, and calculates. The man is running out of time. Soon his limbs would be irreparably damaged from blood loss. There was a loose noose around his neck, and she follows the rope to a weight that’s steadily inching closer to the ground, tightening the noose along the way.

_ “I see you’ve spotted it. Now, listen to me very carefully, or the man will die even sooner. I have snipers trained with fatal shots on both of you.” _

With the additional light, she notices another woman stirring beside her, sparsely dressed. Satine had never been one for physical pleasure, but she felt pity for the woman who so clearly got dragged out of bed.

_ “I want you to play Miss Susan Collins’s game. I’ve made it easy for you, you get one instead of 23.” _

“For what?” Satine asks, voice hoarse. She’s still wearing her scorched Mando armor.

The voice laughs.  _ “To kill, of course! Kill the filthy bitch, and save the innocent.” _

“I’m no innocent, Morierty. Just ask Mycroft.” a hoarse voice comes from above her. The voice makes a disappointed noise. 

_ “No talking, Mr. Holmes. You remember our deal? This or the rooftop?” _ Satine turns her attention to the other woman. She has straight black hair and a lithe, trim form. The woman licks her lips suggestively, and Satine can’t hold back curling her lip up in disgust.  _ “Now, be a good little pacifist and kill her, or the man dies.” _ Satine looks at the woman, who won’t go down without a fight, to the man above her, ready to die. She stares up and sees eyes a familiar shade of grey green.  _ So this is how it ends, cyar. I’m sorry, love. _

She lets the woman kill her with the knife she had in her own boot. The blow is so expertly struck she doesn't even feel it enter her, just a sharp throbbing in its wake.

“Irene Addler,” the other woman whispers as she cradles Satine’s dying body. With her final breath, Satine mummers  _ thank you _ , and Irene presses her lips to the blond’s forehead.

When Lestrade arrives the next day, it’s not Sherlock Holmes who is hanging lifeless from the ceiling. No, it’s some poor red headed bloke dressed like a monk.


End file.
